


Space Mall II: electric unilu

by Bonymaloney (orphan_account)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bad Flirting, F/M, Hair-pulling, Oral Sex, Random Encounters, Vaginal Sex, Xenophilia, but then what is fanfic for, shameless self-insert, slightly masochistic Coran
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-17 18:06:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13664415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Bonymaloney
Summary: The Coranic gets a little unexpected r&r...





	Space Mall II: electric unilu

**Author's Note:**

  * For [VairaSmythe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VairaSmythe/gifts).



PJ glanced around as she stepped through the archway into the dark, crowded bar. Her objective was simple; that place you got in every public area where you could see almost everyone, and they couldn’t see you. Not a hiding place, more of an angle. 

She was disappointed to find that her spot was already taken. A tallish man with an eyepatch, wearing a lot of black, with a shock of red hair that looked vivid even in the dim lamplight - the Empire was rationing power - and a moustache to match. Difficult to tell whether he was there on purpose, or just a civilian who had gotten lucky. 

He looked up, and their eyes met. PJ forced herself to hold his gaze a second or two before moving on. Moving too quickly would make it seem like she had something to hide. He was handsome, too, for an older guy. 

She swiftly identified the second-best place to stand, and leaned back against the wall, scanning the crowd as she listened to the music, something alien which her mind nonetheless kept insisting was the opening beats to Karma Chameleon, until her focus was interrupted by the approach of one of the bartenders. 

“The gentleman over there asked me to bring you this.” He presented her with a heavy bottomed glass, full of something turquoise and slightly oily. When she looked across, the redhead gave her a little nod and then fluffed the end of his moustache. 

PJ gave a wry grin. He’d made her. She nodded back, acknowledging a fellow professional, and mock toasted him as she took a sip. It tasted not so much like bathtub gin as trash can gin, and her eyes watered. 

Determined to maintain her dignity, she looked away, until she realised he was standing right beside her. 

“That’s the stuff, eh! That’ll put hair on your chest. Or your face... anywhere you want it, really.”

“...thanks?”

“You’re welcome! Always nice to find someone who appreciates a good drop of nunvil.”

“Can I help you, Mr...”

“Mr Smythe! Now then, I was wondering if you could see your way _clear_ to helping me out _round_ here? You know... clear? Round? No?” A slight note of desperation crept into his voice. “Clear and round like... lenses?” His face twitched oddly, and PJ became convinced that he was winking with the eye that was hidden by the eye patch. 

“Like... for your eyes? Contact lenses?”

Mr Smythe’s face fell. 

“I don’t think you’re who I’m supposed to meet.”

“Me either.” She shrugged. 

“May I buy you another drink for wasting your time? Human, right? Don’t worry, I’ll order something that’s more to your taste.” He made his way towards the bar, muttering under his breath about how he always got stuck with the one civilised species in the galaxy that didn’t appreciate good nunvil. 

PJ considered her options. Her contact was nowhere to be seen, and if she left now it would be difficult to reschedule. If she remained in the bar for much longer by herself she would inevitably begin to stand out. Pretending to be chatted up by the slightly odd man who was pretending to chat her up was good cover.

“So, what brings a lady like yourself to a swap moon?” he enquired once he’d returned with their drinks. 

“A meeting.” She took a sip, indicating that was all she was willing to say. “This is good. How about you?”

“I’m a trader,” _Mr Smythe_ replied smoothly. “Unusual specimens, geological curiosities, antique spaceship parts. It’s amazing what you can find if you look a little way off the beaten track...” He chattered on, and PJ found herself smiling. He was dressed like a space pirate, but his speech was rather foppish, and he had the most obviously fake name she’d ever heard. It was an interesting tactic - instead of one solidly constructed cover identity, use elements of so many that it was impossible to tell which were based in reality. 

Either that, or he was making it all up as he went along. And that word he’d used... he’d said he’d traded in antique parts, but the other options her translator had offered were _ancient_ , or _legendary_. 

Interesting. 

“Do you like the old legends?” she asked, and his face lit up. 

“There’s one I’m very fond of, actually!” 

They both glanced over their shoulders. They’d been about as specific as anyone dared to be in the heart of the Galra empire, where even mentioning Voltron was enough to make you disappear. 

The strange man was practically glowing with enthusiasm, and she thought again how handsome he was. It was a shame the new Galra leader was so generous.

They turned their attention to a view screen which was showing a sporting event, and he launched into an anecdote about how, when he was a young man, he’d been a champion of some sort of game that involved launching yourself down a frozen hill. He was animated, talking with his hands, and she kept catching his eye, and she could feel her face getting flushed with the alcohol and the company. By the look of him, he was feeling the same way. 

Her contact probably wasn’t going to show by now, she decided.

Some time later, he leaned in and murmured in her ear. “Would you mind if we went back to your room? I’m in a shared dorm, and, well, I’m told I can be a bit noisy.” She smiled her approval. He might be daft and slightly tipsy, but he hadn’t missed the fact that she had a key to one of the private suites. 

He followed her through the door and stopped short. “Very nice,” he nodded, looking around at the spacious room. PJ agreed. She always took the master suite, or pod, or cave, depending on what kind of planet she was on. What was the point of selling your conscience to the highest bidder, if you weren’t going to do it in style? 

“Mind if I freshen up a little?” Mr Smythe gestured towards the bathroom door, and she nodded. It gave her the perfect opportunity to stow her rifle somewhere unobtrusive. He seemed far too good at heart, and she didn’t want to disillusion him by revealing he was sleeping with the enemy. She was standing by the window when he returned. 

“A gorgeous view,” he observed, and winked at her, no eyepatch this time. He’d taken his coat and gloves off, run some water through his hair, and she thought she could see little markings - blue? - on his face that she hadn’t noticed before, but before she could say anything, he kissed her.

His moustache was soft and ever so slightly scratchy, his lips firm and sure. She gasped without meaning to - it had been a long time since she’d been kissed that well. He grinned against her lips, pressing his forehead playfully against hers, and she nipped at him lightly. 

A soft, huffing sigh escaped his lips, and he pressed his body more firmly against hers. He felt good, warm and solid. His hands were big and his shoulders were wide, and though his build was rather wiry, PJ thought he’d been a powerful man once. 

She reached up and gently stroked the sickle-shaped mark on his cheekbone, and he moaned. “Thats... oh, that’s nice. Those are really sensitive for... for my people.”

“Have you got any more?”

“I’m so glad you asked.”

He pulled his undershirt up and over his head, revealing pale, freckled skin, a light dusting of reddish hair on his chest and forearms. His fingers appeared to end in little claws, neatly trimmed and filed. 

The markings were extremely striking. Extending from his spine and wrapping forward around his shoulder, chest and flanks, the way they iridesced as his muscles moved under his skin put her in mind of a gecko. His arms and legs seemed a little too long for his torso, but whether that was normal for his species, or whether that was just him, she couldn’t know. 

He was preening a little under her gaze, and she reached out and touched him, running a fingertip along the stripe that ran beneath his clavicle to the round muscle of his shoulder, and he groaned and shivered. The texture was velvety, like very fine scales, or feathers. 

“May I?” he murmured, hands at the base of her vest. She lifted it up over her head, unclasped her bra, and brought those big tempting hands up to her breasts. He stroked and squeezed her, lightly pinching a nipple, watching curiously for her response.

She kissed him open mouthed and let his thigh press in between hers, and they ground together. PJ could feel the tension building in her belly, the sweet achy pleasure in her nipples and her cunt as she craved to be filled. And judging by what was pressing up against her, he was more than up to the job. 

Suddenly, he lifted her, carrying her with her legs wrapped around his waist until he was able to deposit her on the bed. Her hands went to his belt buckle, but he stepped aside hurriedly. 

“It’s, ah. It’s been a long time for me, even if you don’t count the cryosleep... let me take care of you.” His eyes met hers, violet framed by bright orange lashes, passionate and very alien. “Please.”

He went to his knees, pulling her trousers down from her hips as he went. The look on his face when he saw her was... it couldn’t be called innocent under the circumstances, but it was certainly charmingly inquisitive. 

“Oh...” he slid two fingers forward, gently caressing her slit, entering her and then bringing them to his mouth to taste. “Mmm!” 

He started slow, exploring her every fold with his tongue, but soon he settled into a steady rhythm, sucking her clit while his moustache brushed against her mound and his fingers pumped inside her. PJ sobbed and moaned, hips bucking upwards, fingers twining in his hair until he let out a cry of pain. 

“Sorry!” she gasped out. 

“No, don’t stop,” he replied, face flushed and chest heaving. She noticed he was palming himself through his trousers, and gave his hair another experimental tug. He groaned and pressed a trail of kisses to her inner thigh, working his way up until he could enter her with his tongue. It was so good, teasing and thrusting, so good but nowhere near enough, until he let his fingers slip back inside her, and she shuddered and moaned as her orgasm flooded through her. 

He kissed her then as her hands went to his hips, squeezing his arse before guiding him on top of her, both of them desperately fumbling with his belt until he finally sprang free. 

Stripes there too, and ridges, and he was long and thick, and she wanted him inside her so badly. He was stroking himself, slicking the tip over and over with a glazed look in his eyes. 

“Feels so good...” he murmured hoarsely, “feels like I’ve been waiting for this for so long...” 

“I’m here,” she whispered back to him, and grasped him, guiding him forwards. It took a second or two to line up the unfamiliar anatomy, but then he was sliding home, and she dug her fingers into his shoulders, groaning as he stretched her. He came to a rest with his forehead pressing against hers, eyes closed.

His breath was hot against her neck. 

“Just a tick. I need just a tick...”

She wriggled her hips, buried her fingers in his hair, and pulled. 

A collection of sharp consonants spilled from his lips. She presumed it was a swear word, and she joined him, gasping out as he thrust into her, sharp and sweet. Hot liquid was coiling inside her, electricity tingling up her spine flooding her with pleasure at the weight and heat of him on top of her, the size of him filling her so well...

She tugged his hair again, and felt his cock leap inside her. He slipped off the end of the bed, pulling her towards him with that surprising strength, before plunging back in, slamming into her over and over as his fingers dug into her hips. Already overstimulated from her first orgasm, she simply laid back and let the waves of ecstasy wash through her, urging him on with her legs wrapped round his back. 

Finally, he threw his head back and yelled, chest flushed, stripes rippling silver and blue, face contorted with bliss. As he came, he pulled out and spurted across her belly warm and thick. It was considerate of him, she thought. They hadn’t talked about contraception, and he couldn’t know she was safe, and - 

It was blue. Bubblegum candy blue. 

Before she could help herself, she giggled. 

“Alright, thank you,” he grumbled. “I know I’m not as young as I was...” 

His tone was light, but she thought from his face she’d genuinely hurt his feelings. 

“It’s not that!” She wasn’t sure what aspect he was worried about, but she was mortified nonetheless. “It’s just... where I’m from, it’s normally white.”

“White? Hah! You might as well not bother!” Good mood seemingly restored, he was strutting a little as he folded his clothes, placing them neatly on the chair by the window. 

PJ went to the shower, and before long he joined her, scattering kisses across her shoulders and the nape of her neck as he rutted into her. She could well believe he’d been a bit pent up, cryosleep or no, and she leaned back and let his hands wander where they would, enjoying the hot water and the thrill of being taken from behind. Afterwards, they slept, and it felt good to doze to the warmth of his body behind her. Either he would stay the night or he wouldn’t, it was up to him. 

She woke up alone. His clothes were gone from the room, but in their place was a folded piece of paper. 

The writing was entirely unfamiliar, almost more like a technical diagram than text, except at the bottom, where he had printed a single word in Earth Standard. “Coran.” Too much of a gentleman to just slip away, he’d left her a note, even though he must have known she’d only be able to read one word of it. 

PJ smiled. She rather liked Coran, and she hoped she wouldn’t see him again, at least until the war was done.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading if you made it this far... This is partly written as a reference so I can get all my Coran body/sex headcanons down in one place, but mostly just for shameless self indulgence. 
> 
> PJ is my go to self-insert/oc for fic and rpgs... she’s chaotic neutral socially awkward ranged weapons type. Buff, bi and Jewish (except when she’s a Khajit, cause if you can be an anthropomorphic cat, always be an anthropomorphic cat).


End file.
